The truck was a red Ford half ton, dusty and not very new. Lewis could only get the last four digits of the plate through the reinforced glass at the end of the hall on the third floor. The male who got out of the truck was also unclear, just a lean, broad-shouldered figure in boots and faded jeans, his face hidden by the wide brim of a western hat.
Lewis strode back down the hall to Gerald’s office and waited standing behind the desk. He’d wanted a glimpse of the man but he wasn’t worried. No twenty-something hick was going to give him trouble.
MacIntyre shoved the door open with his palm and motioned Bliss inside. “This’s Bliss,” he said and shut the door. Lewis knew he would wait in the hall and escort the man back down the stairs and out the front doors.
Henry Bliss took off his hat and tapped it lightly against his thigh. His gaze took in the office, looked Lewis over and then moved to the windows and spent more time on the view than he had on either Lewis or the room.
“Mr. Bliss, I believe we have business,” Lewis said, deliberately not offering his name or his hand.
“The only business I’ve got today is with a couple tons of alfalfa,” Bliss said evenly.
“No, this is horse business. I believe you’re in that business, too.”
Bliss made no response. He looked as though Lewis had just told him he liked green cars. So what?
“My employer, Mr. Tareeq, on the other hand, is not in the horse business. Nor does he wish to be. He wants to be left alone.”
“I got a couple friends working for Tareeq. I guess he’s a big man for hiring people.”
Lewis considered the sunburnt cheekbones and deep-set eyes. “Yes,” he said and waited for the man to give him something more, a direction.
Bliss was apparently perfectly happy to look out the windows. He settled himself with a hip against Gerald’s mahogany bookcase and crossed one booted foot over the other while he studied the distant mountains. Finally he looked at Lewis with mild curiosity. “You work for MacIntyre?” he asked.
“MacIntyre works for me.”
“The man in the wheelchair? This his office?”
“The gentleman who previously used this office is no longer here.”
Henry nodded. “I figured. You been having a little staff turnover, like they say.”
“Our staff is not your business, Bliss. Your business has four legs and it’s on our property. Mr. Tareeq is prepared to allow you to remove your property provided you do so immediately and divulge your means of access.”
“Happens I need them in there together for a while longer. They’re not doing your boss any harm, he’s not using that bottomland. How about I remove ‘em in thirty days?”
“You will remove them immediately and you will do so under my supervision or they will be shot and a certain employee, with whom you are rather well acquainted will be transferred.”
Black eyes snapped at Lewis, momentarily. Then Bliss reached in his shirt pocket and Lewis stiffened. It was just tobacco and Lewis watched him arrange it expertly with the folded paper in his palm. Christ, they didn’t even do this in the movies any more.
“And what employee would that be?” Bliss asked when the cigarette was well under way.
“A young woman.”
“She got a name?”
“Yes, she has a name Bliss. Her name is Lily, and we own her.”
Bliss looked up briefly at the words but he gave no other indication that he was affected in any way by the deliberate taunt. There was no push to the man. Lewis felt a twinge of impatience.
Henry’s gaze was on his hands, constructing the cigarette. “Last I heard, slavery was illegal in this country. Your boss heard about American law, you think?”
“We have her under a contract. A contract which she signed willingly and for which we paid her a substantial sum of money. It’s absolutely legal and binding and it entitles me to assign her according to our needs, including work in any location worldwide. And believe me Bliss, I’ll find an assignment for her. She’ll work out her contract a long way from here, doing whatever she’s told.”
“I’d need to hear that from her.”
“Oh, you will. But first, you will remove your horses from this property.”
“No, I reckon not. First I’ll talk to Lily.”
“Your horses are trespassing on posted private property. Mr. Tareeq is offering you one chance to remove them alive, today. Otherwise, those horses will be dead meat by tomorrow.”
Henry Bliss licked the paper and admired the finished cigarette briefly before tucking it into his shirt pocket. He lifted his hat off a bookend bust of Cleopatra and banged the dust off on the edge of Gerald’s desk. When he met Lewis’s eyes, his own were smoldering. “Those mares of mine were mostly dead meat when I bought ‘em. They ain’t worth much unless they’re bred. But you might want to think twice about shooting the stallion. That is one very expensive horse, and he belongs to a rancid sombitch, name of W.B. Walcott. Walcott’s rich, and he’s mean, and he sure hell don’t like nobody with dark skin, like your boss, Tareeq. And he’s been tearing the state to pieces, looking for his fancy stallion. Happens he finds him on your property, man, you’re gonna have some trouble on your hands.”
He slid the Stetson deftly onto his head and jerked the brim down. “Mr. W.B. Walcott hosts a fancy dress Arabian horse show every year, invites the governor and a couple of senators from Texas and California. He’s a big man around here and if he should hear about his stallion, dead or alive, over here inside that fence, your Arab will find out plenty about American law.”
“You want the law in this, Bliss?”
“I’m no man’s nigger.” The easy grace of Bliss’ stance had stiffened subtly and Lewis was belatedly aware of the steel in the man. “I’ll move those horses. When I’m ready. And I’ll take the stallion off your hands after I see Lily about this contract. I don’t want trouble, but you want some, I’ll give you as much as you need.”
He strode to the door, his boot heels scoring the carpet. “Tell Lily she can leave a message for me anytime at the Wagon Wheel, happens she ever gets a day off. I ain’t home much.”
“She won’t be getting any days off,” Lewis said.
Henry nodded. “That’s all right. I can wait. It’s haying season. I’m a busy man myself these days.” Then he was gone, and the door closed.
* * * *
Lily would have preferred to stand. She knew this man by reputation. His name was Lewis and he was a section head with a track record for getting results with little regard for rules or niceties. She did not want to be trapped in a chair while he exercised his well-known temper on her. For one thing, he was too big. Even sitting behind the desk, his physical presence was threatening. For another, she usually didn’t cry when she was standing up.
For three years, she had done the things they wanted, and she had never lost her nerve. Through all the grim, repellent and frightening assignments, she had never allowed herself to look away. And now that she had resigned, when she had voided her contract and would have to forfeit all the money for which she had debased herself, she wanted to cry a dozen times a day. She wanted to run to Henry and never look back.
MacIntyre had told her yesterday that the auditor had arrived. After weeks of confinement in her cramped little dorm room she had been glad. By breakfast though, she was too nervous to eat. Now it was noon and she felt sick from hunger and the stress of waiting.
She missed her trailer and the hot freedom of the canyon rim. She had been alone up there, but not as lonely as here, where she was an outsider. She felt isolated and she missed Henry. Nights she tossed while her mind tortured her with phantom lips and hands, hoarse whispers, the remembered textures of coarse hair and knotted shoulders. She wondered what he knew and whether he still came to her trailer on Sundays.
At first, MacIntyre had told her they were sending a woman to do the audit. She had hoped a woman would have some understanding. She knew this man would have none. All morning people had left the dorms for their interviews. She had heard them when they returned, talking in knots in the halls and around the pool. They used words like “hard-ass” and “no bullshit”.
Lewis pointed to the chair again. The look that accompanied the gesture was impatient and commanding.
“Do it now, Jamieson,” he said into the phone. “I need it today.”
Lily sat. The last time she’d been in this office Gerald had been behind the wide, polished desk. She knew it was a bad idea to even thing about Gerald right now.
Lewis put down the telephone and she braced herself. He gave her a long, appraising look before he spoke. “Do you know who I am?”
She nodded.
“Speak to me when I ask you a question.”
“Lewis,” she said, dry-mouthed.
“And you,” he said, “are a contractor with three years’ experience and an IQ of 122. Nothing in your record indicates your inability to handle your job on this site. So I have to believe you just don’t care.”
Lily felt frozen and though she wanted to protest, she couldn’t find any words.”
“Would you mind explaining to me just exactly what you thought we were paying you to do out there?” He jerked his chin at the window through which she could see rising desert and sky.
She kept her eyes fixed on the view, resolutely not looking at him though she could feel him waiting. She thought he’d go on; the question was rhetorical. Finally, she said, “I had two assignments. I monitored the alarm system and patrolled and observed ten miles of the perimeter fence. And I was the field researcher for the desert sheep rehabilitation project.”
“Did Gerald or MacIntyre tell you which of those responsibilities was paramount?”
“Gerald told me that establishing habitat for desert bighorn sheep would lead to the river drainage being declared a wildlife conservation area, which would get state and federal oversight to help secure our flank. I’d never met anyone like Gerald before. He took time to explain how my interface with the wildlife preservation people would also contribute to our security. After my interview, I think I understood Gerald’s priorities. MacIntyre has always been only focused on the fence and preventing trespassing.”
He turned away from her to stare out the window. She relaxed slightly. It wasn’t over but if he had glared at her for another second, her heart would have stopped. When he turned back to her, his eyes froze the pit of her stomach.
“I want to show you something, Lily. It’s something you should see. In fact, it has to be seen to be appreciated. This is the result of your lack of focus, your encouragement of incursions that you should have been discouraging. You may not have pulled the trigger — I’ve read MacIntyre’s report — but you are responsible.” He pushed his chair back, stood, and removed his jacket. He tossed it over the chair and began to unbutton his shirt cuffs. Finished with the cuffs, his hands went to work on his tie.
“Come here,” he said.
Lily shrank back into the chair and opened her mouth to refuse. She felt the tears stinging behind her eyes. He couldn’t make her; she would leave. MacIntyre was right outside the door. The idea of flight vanished when he repeated the order, “Stand up and come over here. Now.”
The force of his voice struck her like a whip. Flinching, she gripped the arms of the chair. His eyes were so pale and cold that she couldn’t look away. As she dragged herself upright, he ripped the last button from his shirt and threw it open.
She wouldn’t look at anything but his face. Standing shakily, she put a hand on his desk to steady herself. If she looked down, at his chest, she knew what she’s see, so she steeled herself to hold his gaze.
He leaned over the desk, and she felt his breath on her face. “Look, damn it.”
Lily dropped her gaze to his neck. She shut her eyes for the space of one unsteady breath. Okay, okay, she told herself, just don’t cry. Just look at it, and don’t cry.
Her gaze dropped to the puckered hole disfiguring his chest. It looked like a bomb the size of a tennis ball had exploded on his right side. From the center of the crater, twisted ribbons of white and purple scars ran under his arm and across his sternum. Incision lines were visible, raised and red, with the holes from the staples still visible. Thanks to her training as a biologist, Lily knew she was looking at healthy, healing tissue. This was as good as it was going to get. The contrast with the unmarked left side of his chest made the extent of the damage clear and explained how he had survived: his size had absorbed the impact.
MacIntyre had told her about the dart but nothing could have prepared her for this. Anyone else would be dead; she was sure of that. Dead, not back for retribution, justice, vengeance. She looked up at his face, heedless of her tears. ““Oh, God,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, but it wasn’t my fault. It was an accident.”
* * * *
Lewis turned away and began to re-button his shirt. Minutes before, he’d been determined to reduce her to exactly this. Now he had to use it. She was the only tool at his disposal for controlling Bliss. And Bliss, with his apparent ability to penetrate security at will, had to be stopped.
“This was no accident.” He flicked her with an icy stare, dropped his gaze to the sleeve he was rolling, and then turned on her again. “You gave someone the impression of an open door, an opportunity, a weakness. Bliss took advantage of that, and then this teen-ager took advantage of his leniency and irresponsibility to get herself into position to shoot me. Your job was to prevent all of that.”
Lily wilted in front of his desk. Her eyes followed his hand, as it snapped the sleeve smoothly.
“I’ve been over and over this with MacIntyre,” she said shakily. “It’s in the reports.” She lifted her head. “I did break a rule. I met someone. Loneliness, that’s my big crime. He didn’t shoot you.”
“Loneliness,” he repeated with disgust. “Do you have any idea of the importance of this installation? Why would Gerald have taken the trouble to find you, interview you, and pay you double your rate — why would Gerald have hired you? Other than his belief in your capabilities and loyalty?”
He glared at her. “We have a lot of competent, hardworking, valuable people working here who have the maturity and character to do their damn jobs. Don’t you think any of them get lonely?”
Some insane impulse, born of nervous exhaustion, prompted her. “Well, I’m pretty sure you do.”
* * * *
Lewis smiled. On the outside it was a nasty little grimace, but inside, it was a more genuine reflex. I see I haven’t scared the wits out of you yet, Lily. That’s too bad, because your cowboy wants to play tough, too. He leaned across the desk. “Well yes, Lily, but then I have a lonely job. I make lonely decisions, like what to do about you. Gerald trusted you. Can I? After this” — he thumbed his chest — “would anyone trust you? Not only are you finished with us but your actions will end MacIntyre’s career, too.”
She shook her head, “Don’t blame MacIntyre. He had nothing to do with what happened to you.”
“He was responsible for security. That means you were his responsibility, Lily, and you let him down. You let Gerald down, too, and your behavior contributed to an incident that came within an inch of killing me. That’s a lot of wrong.”
She swallowed. “I know and I’m sorry. Please don’t take this out on MacIntyre. I’ve apologized and resigned. I told him I’d do whatever I can to try to fix this. He said everything was up to you now.”
“Right, well, I’m considering giving you a chance to prove yourself. Your final job. Don’t worry, it won’t be too much of a stretch. It won’t require you to be lonely. One last simple little job, and this time, you’d better focus and get it right, Lily.”
“And then I can resign?”
“I’ll decide whether you can resign. If I allow you to void your contract you will have to pay back the remainder. Do you have it?”
“Yes, most of it. MacIntyre said it would be enough.”
“Forget MacIntyre. If you want to forfeit, you need absolution, in the form of results for me.”
“Whatever it is, I’ll do it. As long as you promise to leave Henry alone. He doesn’t know anything about me, what I do really. You don’t have to hurt him.”
“Very noble of you, Lily. Where was all this loyalty when you were supposed to be on our side and earning the money we paid you?”
“I was earning it. I worked hard for Dr. Wheeler, even MacIntyre said I did a good job. I would never have let Gerald down. I liked him a lot. I cried when Mac told me he was dead. I wouldn’t have allowed anybody inside the perimeter if I’d known about it, not even Henry.”
“I’ve read your report. I don’t believe you were ignorant of Bliss moving his horses inside. Maybe you thought it was harmless, I don’t know. Did you think you could hide it?”
“No, I had no idea. I never saw a horse inside the fence and Henry never said anything about it. I only saw him on Sundays and I know he was working on the waterlines all day. I never had any hint he could get inside. I spotted the girl with my binoculars after I got the alert. I went after her right away. She was lost and confused, looking for Henry when she spotted you with the scope. I startled her. She pulled the trigger but it was accidental. The recoil knocked her flat on her back. She didn’t understand. She didn’t know the rifle was loaded and she didn’t realize she’d hit anything.”
“But she did hit something. Because of you, somebody with a weapon got into a secured area. Because of you, I’m carrying this scar for the rest of my life, we have an open perimeter issue, and Gerald, who you claim to have cried over, is going to be remembered as the man whose last project had a big-time security problem. We’re wasting time and resources cleaning up a mess that never would have happened if you, Lily, had been doing your job.”
She was white, dry-eyed, trembling. The back of his throat filled with acid. He forced it down. The director would strongly disapprove of this. Too messy, too personal, for the director. But this way, Lily would stay alive, and for that, he was willing to accept her fearing, even hating him. He could live with that, as long as she could convince Bliss to remove his horses, including the stallion, quickly and quietly.
“Let me talk to Henry, please. I’ll do anything you want, but let me talk to him first.”
“Save your breath, Lily. If you want to get out of your contract and keep Bliss alive, be ready to do what I tell you when I’m ready. No pleading, no arguing.”
He sat and picked up the phone. “You can go,” he said. “Close the door behind you. MacIntyre will give you the job specs when I’m ready.”